


A Lesson in Kissing, and Other Strange Fleshbag Activities

by Nerves



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: .....sort of, Anal Sex, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Sexual Situations, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some icky spit stuff, but in a cute way, honestly there's just a lot of weird kind of awkward stuff in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerves/pseuds/Nerves
Summary: Exactly as advertised. While Angor hangs out in Strickler's office, he gets curious about why the changeling spends so much time in his fleshbag disguise. Strickler gives a demonstration.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt sent to me on Tumblr about Angor and strickler kissing in his office. It kind of turned into a disaster, but hopefully a fun one. The time frame is around episode 15-16, it's not too exact. Enjoy!

Although Strickler was pretending to be hard at work, it was difficult to _not_ notice the way that Angor was looking at him - long, hard, and rather ominously. The assassin seemed to have finished carving whatever it was that he had been carving several minutes ago, and with his hands now unoccupied and his mind wandering, his attention too wandered towards the man seated at the desk. Still, he stood silently, immovable and unsettling. Usually he would leave after he finished his carvings, quick to be away from Strickler, but for some reason he lingered on that day. Strickler could feel a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Although he had had about a week now to get used to the troll, he still found his presence more than a little unnerving. 

Finally, after another several moments passed, he looked up, his gaze meeting Angor’s a little too firmly. The troll’s eyes were bright and intense, sharp in the dim light of his shaded office. “Did you need something, Angor? Aren’t you supposed to be out _killing_ someone?” Strickler asked, looking back down at the paper as he spoke. Angor smirked, crossing his arms. His clawed finger tapped lightly against his forearm. 

“Stricklander.” When Angor spoke the name with his deep tone, he sounded almost alluring. Strickler’s collar felt tight around his neck. “You spend an unseemly amount of time looking like a fleshbag.” Looking up again, Strickler set down his pen and pressed the tips on his fingers together, hands resting casually on the desk. He smiled gently at him, but it could not hide the impatient look that his face bore. 

“Angor. You may or may not have noticed that this is a _school_. This is a place for _humans_ , and as such I must blend in.” His tone was condescending, and he could see Angor’s smirk fade for a moment before it grew bigger. 

“If you wanted to avoid _exposure_ , then you should never have insisted that I come here.” He tilted his head, still staring at Strickler with that odd, newfound interest. “If a fleshbag were to walk in unannounced like you seem to fear, I might not vanish quickly enough. That being the case, it’s hardly a logical thought.” Strickler flushed, his brow furrowing in annoyance. In truth, it was late enough in the day that they were likely by themselves, and even so, no one came to see him in his office anymore unless they absolutely had to. 

“Perhaps not,” he bit out, weaving his fingers together and squeezing his unified fist. “But what does it matter? What I do is none of your business - as the _master_ I do not need to explain myself.” Angor’s eyes flickered at the word _master_ , his smirk suddenly lacking in amusement. Strickler did not like that look one bit. What did he _want_? 

“I’ve met many Impures before, but none of them seem to _like_ their masks so much,” Angor observed, still pushing despite the fact that Strickler clearly did not wish to talk about it. “Why would you rather spend your time as a fleshbag than a proper troll?” Strickler’s eyes narrowed, and deciding that he would not continue to be pushed, he lowered his gaze back to his papers and moved to pick up his pen once more. 

“Human skin is softer and nicer,” he said blankly, scanning a hastily written line by some poor student who was well on his way to earning a C-. He crossed out a word and scribbled a note next to it. “It’s nicer to touch than to eat.” 

“ _Oh_?” Strickler felt his heart skip a beat. Angor’s tone was one both curious and suggestive, and the changeling realized too late that his words had sounded an awful lot like an invitation. He looked up, and sure enough, Angor had uncrossed his arms and began slowly walking across the office, the top of his horns moving well above the tops of the changeling’s tall bookcases. It was ominous and - much to Strickler’s chagrin - arousing. He swallowed. 

“ _Oh_? What do you mean _oh_?” he asked, as if he didn’t know the answer. As Angor circled slowly around the desk, Strickler pushed back in his chair, not taking his gaze off of the troll. He stood rather abruptly, backing up as the other continued to advance. “Just a second - don’t - STOP.” Raising his right hand, the Inferna Copula glowed brightly, and Angor halted, his gaze falling to the ring for a moment before he looked back at the changeling’s face. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your frustration, Stricklander,” Angor rumbled, turning his head to the bookshelf to their left. Strickler lowered his hand, watching the troll closely. What was he _talking_ about? Scanning the titles, Angor reached over and pulled one out at random, knocking a few others off in the process. Strickler wanted to scold him, but the words caught in his throat. As he opened the book, Strickler could not help but notice how it looked tiny in his enormous hand. “The way humans go about their coupling is so inconvenient.” Strickler felt hot with embarrassment at the confirmation of his thoughts, accompanied by both dread and excitement. Gazing down at the book, Angor looked it over absently, apparently only pretending to read it. “How long have you been courting the fleshbag woman? Have you done anything with her other than that weird ‘kissing’ thing that humans do?” He furrowed his brow, his fists clenching at his sides at Angor’s prying questions. 

“I fail to see how that’s _any_ of your business! Besides, what are you trying to get at? It’s not like I have anything of… interest…” He lost his train of thought as Angor raised his finger to his mouth, his large yellowish tongue slipping past his tusks to lick the end before using said finger to turn the page. Strickler felt something stirring in his groin as he watched the painfully deliberate movement far too closely. _Fuck_. “...to offer you.” He finished the thought, but he had already forgotten what it was that he was trying to say. Angor’s gaze lifted again, meeting his. He snapped the book shut with a _thud_ , startling Strickler. 

“Have you ever even _been_ with a troll?” Angor asked, dropping the book and letting it land unceremoniously on the floor, pages fluttering and spine cracking. Strickler stared up at him, cheeks burning. He clenched his jaw tightly, swallowing again. 

“Yes,” he replied curtly. Angor smirked.

“A _male_ troll?” 

“...yes.”

“ _Really_?” The skepticism in his voice annoyed Strickler. His next words were out before he could think about them for too long. 

“Do you want me to _prove_ it to you?” 

Now, _that_ was an invitation. Strickler’s heart leapt to his throat as Angor reached out, slipping his hand around the changeling’s hip. “Do you have a better idea?” Inhaling sharply, Strickler prepared himself emotionally and mentally, and then gave the troll a sharp shove, the Inferna Copula glowing brightly once again. Angor grunted and stumbled backwards, catching himself against the bookcase as Strickler rapidly advanced. One hand behind his back, the changeling stopped in front of him, a stern look on his face. Raising his other hand, he pointed to the ground with his index finger, the ring still glowing bright. 

“Sit.” Angor growled at the command, glaring at him. He did not like being treated like a dog, but Strickler seemed to be insistent on being in control in _all_ situations. Grimacing, he did as he was asked, his gaze never leaving the changeling as he lowered himself into a sitting position on the ground. Smirking, Strickler looked at him for a moment before he swiftly peeled off his blazer and allowed it to drop to the ground before he moved his hands to his belt buckle. He swiftly unbuckled it and pulled it free from the belt loops before discarding it next to Angor. Taking a few steps, his feet outside of the troll’s legs, he suddenly squatted down, straddling him. Bracing himself with one hand around the back of Angor’s neck and the other holding on to one of the roots protruding from the troll’s shoulder, Strickler leaned forward, his eyes hooded. “Open your mouth.” 

The troll quirked one of his brow stones, but did not immediately follow the command. “Why?” Strickler glared at him, suddenly moving his hand from the root to Angor’s chin, his grip tight. 

“Open. Your. Mouth.” Angor let out an indignant snort, and then complied. Smirking in satisfaction, the changeling looked curiously at Angor’s mouth, admiring the shape of his tusks, the curvature of his stone lips, the gloss of saliva on his large tongue. He felt that stirring in his groin again, the beginnings of an ache for friction. He thought that perhaps to a human Angor Rot might look rather monstrous and ugly, but to a troll like Strickler, he was quite handsome. Letting out a shuddering breath, he slowly let go of his chin, moving his hand up to caress his face. Angor stared at him intently, still obediently holding his mouth open despite the cautious look on his face. He let out a low rumble as the changeling ran his fleshy fingers over his face, the sensation of human skin against his living stone a strange but pleasant one. 

Without warning he slipped his thumb inside Angor’s mouth, and the troll jerked his head back, a look of confusion on his face. Pulling Angor’s head forward again with a sharp tug from the hand on the back of his neck, Strickler sat down, landing on the troll’s abdomen. With the disparity in size between them, it was laughable to think that Angor would be weighed down by Strickler’s human body, but he still used the movement as a reminder of who was in charge. Letting out a low growl, Angor relaxed his upper body once again, slipping a large hand around the changeling’s hips. Unwittlingly Strickler let out a small sound somewhere between surprise and arousal, and then proceeded to awkwardly clear his throat, pretending that he had not made the noise. Amusement glowed in Angor’s eyes at that. 

Sliding his thumb along the troll’s tongue, he felt the warm, wet surface of it, relishing the feeling against his skin. His mouth dropped open as Angor curled his tongue, licking the palm of Strickler’s hand. He glanced into the troll’s eyes then, finding them hooded as well. He smirked. Pulling his thumb from his mouth, he wrapped his hand around the root again, leaning close. “Sit still. Don’t panic.” Angor looked at him curiously. 

“Why would I-” His thought was cut short by Strickler’s face suddenly against his own, his lips pressing against the stone of his cheek. Angor stiffened, rather confused. Strickler’s eyes fluttered shut as he began kissing Angor’s face, moving across the expanse of it, licking gently at it every now and then. Angor pulled back slightly, but Strickler seemed nearly glued to him, holding him close. “What are you _doing_?” The changeling paused, pulling back. He looked annoyed. 

“Kissing you. I thought that was obvious,” he replied. Angor furrowed his brow. 

“Not on the mouth? I thought that’s what kissing was. Whatever that is that you’re doing… it’s weird.” Strickler let out a short huff, pulling back further.

“You don’t really have lips that work for that, and your tusks are huge,” he explained, annoyed. Angor smirked at him.

“That sounds like an excuse to me.” Strickler flushed, frowning at him. He considered him for a long moment before sighing.

“Fine. I doubt you’ll like it though, I’m just telling you now.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Angor’s between his protruding tusks. When the troll didn’t respond, Strickler kissed him more insistently, but still failed to draw a reaction. Letting out a growl, he pulled back slightly, glaring into Angor’s unnervingly open eyes. “You’re supposed to move them, Angor.” 

“Why?” 

“Just. Fucking. Do it.” He ground the words out, his grip tightening around the back of Angor’s neck. The troll breathed out a chuckle and pulled Strickler closer by putting a second hand on his back - an action which caused the changeling to take in a sharp breath.

“As you wish,” he replied. Letting out an annoyed grunt, Strickler leaned down and kissed him again, finding that the troll’s lips had parted and now responded. It was… awkward and uncomfortable to say the least, but despite the weird, almost sandy sensation of Angor’s stone lips against his, he still found himself beginning to like it. Sliding his tongue out, he licked along the troll’s lower lip, lubrication for an otherwise uncomfortably dry kiss. Angor made a small noise, but he ignored it, instead pushing his tongue past his teeth and along the tip of the troll’s tongue. Once again struck by the difference in size between them, he felt another pang of annoyance when he realized that his human tongue was rather short, and could not easily reach inside the troll’s mouth. 

“Stick your tongue out,” he said, his voice low and breathy. Angor was less resistant this time, and did as he was told. Letting out a low moan, Strickler ran his tongue along Angor’s, beginning to rock his hips as their tongues writhed against each other. A growl rumbled in the troll’s throat, and Strickler could swear that he felt it enter through his mouth and run all the way down his spine. The large hands on his back were holding him tightly, pulling him closer. Angor seemed to not understand the correct amount of saliva one should have in one’s mouth when kissing, and as a result their rather wet kiss was leaving a lot of slobber on Strickler’s chin. He tried to ignore it, but it was difficult, considering how disgusting the sensation was on his human skin. 

Suddenly, Angor pushed his tongue further out and directly into Strickler’s mouth, the size of the organ a bit larger than anticipated. He gagged for a moment, but did not pull back and instead began sucking on it. Angor rumbled in approval again, shifting under him, one hand falling to the changeling’s hip. Slowly, he slipped his hand under Strickler’s turtleneck, feeling the soft, yielding flesh underneath. He moaned around Angor’s tongue, nails grating against the stone flesh of his neck. Without warning, Angor pulled his tongue back into his mouth with an unpleasant, slick sound, a huge string of drool connecting their mouths for a moment before it broke and dropped wetly onto the troll’s chest. Strickler closed his mouth and stared at the saliva for a long moment. _Hm. Gross._ Wiping his chin with his hand, he looked back up at Angor sheepishly. “We’ll… work on that.” Angor smirked. 

“Take off your clothes, Impure,” he purred, causing Strickler to glare at him. “I’m curious about the rest of what your fleshbag body has to offer.” The changeling punched Angor in the chest less than gently, causing him to grunt. 

“Don’t call me that, and _don’t_ tell me what to do.” In spite of his words, Strickler grabbed the bottom hem of his turtleneck with both hands and pulled it over his head, but got caught partway through. Angor chuckled, but made no move to help him and instead grabbed him with both hands, his thumbs hooked under his arms. Strickler yelped rather unflatteringly, writhing as he continued to try to free himself. Embarrassingly, he felt himself growing hard at his current predicament, his erection starting to strain against his trousers. Pulling him close, Angor extended his tongue once again and gave his chest a broad lick, causing the changeling to cry out. 

“Stop that - help me - what are - _oh_ \- I need this thing to…” Finally freeing himself, he gasped as he was able to get fresh air into his lungs again, and he flung the turtleneck to the ground. Angor continued to lick him and began nibbling at the skin on his chest, the sharpness of his teeth an unusual sensation. Strickler moaned, grabbing one of Angor’s horns and the same root as before to steady himself. “E-easy… I’d really rather you not eat me.” Angor looked up at him, smirking. 

“Is that so?” Strickler didn’t like that look in his eye. It made him nervous. “There’s something else that fleshbags do with their mouths, isn’t there?” His stomach dropped, and his face turned red. Angor’s smirk broadened, and he moved his hands down the changeling’s body, moving towards his trousers. Strickler grabbed both of his wrists, halting his progress. 

“I would really rather you not,” he said, although the twitching erection in his trousers said otherwise. “Your teeth. Besides, I’m not sure I trust you.” Angor frowned at his explanation, glaring at him in annoyance. Strickler paused for a second, somehow growing redder as he prepared himself to say his next piece. “However… I would be… _happy_ to give you a demonstration.” Angor stared up at him for a long moment before that annoying smirk returned. Without warning, he let go of the changeling and pushed him back, causing Strickler to fall gracelessly to the ground. Getting himself back into a sitting position, the changeling watched closely as Angor continued to stare at him, his hands moving to undo his loincloth. He felt a fluttering in his stomach as he watched, already able to see the outline of Angor’s erection through the cloth. As he pulled the fabric aside to reveal his phallus, Strickler felt another jolt. He was rapidly losing control of the situation, but he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. 

“Well?” Angor’s voice snapped his attention back to the troll’s face, embarrassed as he realized that he had been staring. “That look isn’t making your case for being experienced.” Strickler sneered at him, and then moved between the troll’s legs, returning his attention to the hard cock before him. It was not large by troll standards, but at this particular moment Strickler was neither troll sized nor made of stone, and so the cock that was nearly two-thirds the size of the changeling’s forearm was a little bit intimidating to say the least - especially considering that while in human form, the largest he had taken was about six inches. Glancing up at Angor’s face for a moment, he reached out and grabbed the base without hesitation. It was already partially slick with a translucent purple lubricant which was secreted by a set of glowing glands that ran up the length of the shaft, which made his work easier. 

Taking a deep breath, Strickler made eye contact with the troll once more, not looking away as he opened his mouth and lowered it down onto his cock. Angor let out a hiss at the sensation, bucking his hips up gently to encourage Strickler. Using the hand around the base as leverage, he kept Angor from bucking too far into his mouth, and slowly began running his tongue around the head. That action continued to elicit sounds from the troll, not-so-gentle encouragements to continue. The look on his face was one that Strickler had seen many times - eyes narrowed, mouth agape, brow furrowed, arousal written all over his features. It fed into his own arousal, and Strickler found his free hand wandering to his own cock, rubbing it through the fabric of his trousers. Popping the head free from his mouth - which pulled another moan from Angor - he ran his tongue along the shaft, tip teasing the glands along the way. At a particularly well timed lick, Angor grabbed the back of his head, claws digging into his scalp, causing Strickler to wince. He said nothing however and repeated the action, letting out a low hum against the shaft. 

The cock twitched and bounced uncomfortably close to his eye, causing Strickler to pull back slightly. “ _Easy_.” His tone was chiding, but Angor was beyond caring and he simply pushed Strickler’s face closer to his cock again. Going along with the movement, he gave another long lick up the shaft before he sucked the head back into his mouth, pushing further down this time. He bobbed his head up and down, keeping his strokes just shallow enough that he wouldn’t gag. Even so, he began to feel moisture in one of his eyes as he went a little too deep, and he had to pull back abruptly. Before he could remove the tip from his mouth, Angor’s hand pushed him down again, far too quickly and too deep, causing the tip to hit the back of his throat. Unable to suppress his gag reflex any longer, he choked, his eyes watering, but still the troll held him down. Glaring up at Angor through teary eyes, Strickler squeezed the troll’s cock far too tightly, causing him to hiss and let go. Pulling himself free, he gasped for air, another strand of saliva mixed with Angor’s lubricant dripping from his lower lip. “Don’t do that again,” he growled, standing up. 

“Where are you going?” Angor asked, shifting as if to rise as well. Strickler raised the hand on which he wore the Inferna Copula, the ring glowing as he motioned for the troll to stop. 

“Nowhere. I’m simply doing as I was told, unlike _someone_.” Angor frowned, but leaned back once again. Strickler watched him for a moment as he toed off his shoes, and then turned his attention to unbuttoning his trousers. Letting them pool at his feet, he then hooked his thumbs into his briefs and pushed those down as well, shuddering at the cool air that his erection was now exposed to. Looking back at Angor, he saw that the troll was watching him intently, and had began stroking himself while doing so. Strickler blushed, raising an eyebrow. “Enjoying the view?” 

“Not particularly,” Angor replied, but continuing to stroke himself. Strickler frowned, and then looked away to turn his attention to taking off his socks. Removing one of them, he held it up between his thumb and index finger, looking at it for a moment before he smirked at Angor. 

“Hungry?” He flung the sock effortlessly at Angor, who growled and batted it away mid-air with his free hand. 

“If I eat anything in here tonight, it won’t be your socks,” he rumbled, his gaze roaming over the changeling’s body. He even seemed to take proper care of his _fleshbag_ body. Humans were hideous, but the body of Stricklander’s familiar was certainly less hideous than usual. Strickler felt nervous again at Angor’s words, but still he removed the second sock. 

“If you keep threatening me like that, I won’t let you fuck me,” he said before flinging the second sock, which hit Angor in the eye. The troll grunted, catching the sock as it bounced off his face and discarded it. He smirked up at the changeling again. 

“You’re _letting_ me, are you? Looking like that, I would have thought that you’re excited about it.” He nodded his head towards Strickler’s cock, which was protruding rather proudly. The changeling glared at him, taking his cock into his hand before he stepped back over to Angor. 

“Does it matter?” he asked, crouching down again, not breaking eye contact as he slowly stroked himself. “I’ve made it clear that I’ll indulge you in whatever this is, regardless.” Angor grabbed him by the hip, forcing him to sit on the troll’s pelvis. Strickler gasped, startled by the movement, but quickly settled down, a slow smile crawling across his lips. He could feel Angor’s erection hot and wet against his buttocks. Holding his erection against him with his hand, Angor began grinding against him. Strickler let out a low moan, matching Angor’s rhythm with his own hand, the other planted firmly on his chest. His eyes fluttered closed, and as he felt sparks of pleasure running from his cock to the rest of his body, his eyes fluttered shut once again. Suddenly, the troll grabbed him by the hips with both hands and lifted him up, positioning him over his cock. Alarmed, Strickler began wriggling, hands batting uselessly at the troll’s forearms, wide-eyed as he tried to get Angor’s attention. “Wait! WAIT!” Angor did, giving him a puzzled look as he did so. 

“Is this not-” 

“-No, no it _is_ , I just am… not prepared.” Angor raised a brow at him, still holding him aloft. Strickler sighed, and braced himself against Angor’s shoulder. “Just… hold on a moment.” Raising his other hand to his mouth, he inserted two fingers all the way to his knuckles, and pulled them out slick with spit. Angor watched as he reached around behind himself, wet fingers rubbing his exposed hole. Letting out a moan, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to slip a finger inside. Meeting resistance, he let out a grunt of frustration, opening his eyes and looking around the room, somehow expecting there to be a bottle of lube or something in his school office despite the fact that he knew very well that there was no such thing. It was a foolish thought, but Strickler was hardly focused on that in that moment. 

“Are you…” 

“Shut up. Give me a moment.” Glancing at Angor again, a thought occurred to him, and leaning back, he grabbed the troll’s cock somewhat forcefully. The troll hissed as Strickler stroked him hard, rubbing his glands to produce more lubrication. When his hand was sufficiently wet, he let go and once again made an attempt to insert his index finger. The digit slipped in easily, and he let out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut once again. Pushing and pulling it in and out for a few moments, he added a second finger into mix, and upon thinking about Angor’s girth, he followed with a third. Angor watched with interest as Strickler fingered himself, thinking that the angle must be quite uncomfortable. It was, but Strickler was loathe to prolong the process any more. 

Growing impatient, Angor lifted Strickler once again, causing the changeling to let out a horrible startled yelp. Pulling his fingers out quickly, he wrapped his arms around Angor’s neck as the troll rose to his feet. Wrapping his legs around him as well, he clung to Angor tightly, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breaking as Angor made a sudden and awkward step.

“Changing locations.” With one hand cupping Strickler’s ass to keep him steady, he used the other to start knocking things off of the changeling’s desk.

“Hey!” Strickler glared at Angor, punching him in the shoulder, and action which the troll ignored. “Be kinder to my things! Knocking stuff off my desk is _not_ romantic or sexy, despite what the movies say.” 

“If you want a pencil stabbed into your back then by all means I’ll leave it, but either way you’re going on the desk.” Swiping the last few objects out of his way (Strickler’s name plate and a stack of student papers), he then hooked both hands under the changeling’s arms and pulled him off of him, dumping him onto the desk. He barely gave Strickler enough time to get himself adjusted before he pinned him down with a hand on his chest. 

“Angor, what-”

“If you would rather be on your stomach, you should flip over now,” he said plainly, his other hand once again stroking his erection. 

“N-no, my back is fine, but I…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Angor’s face, and then let out a heavy sigh. Bending his legs up, he hooked both of his hands under his knees, leaving him fully open and exposed. “Fine. If you’re so impatient. Have at it.” He rolled his eyes and pretended that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy being manhandled. Angor chuckled, positioning himself at Strickler’s hole. Without warning, he thrust his hips forward and entered him, meeting little resistance. Startled, Strickler cried out, fingernails digging into his thighs. Angor pushed forward until he was buried in him to the hilt, causing Strickler to shudder and whimper. As expected, the sensation was less than pleasant in his human skin, but at the same time he felt warm and full. 

Angor offered no warning as he slid back out before thrusting in again, pushing the desk with the movement. With each thrust, Strickler moaned, the discomfort giving way to pleasure, and his hand once again found its way to his own cock. He stared up at Angor as he fucked him, the strangeness of the situation hitting him all at once. He knew that once their coupling was done, Angor would likely forget about the whole thing - being a troll, sex did not have the same kind of emotional implications that it did for humans - but as a creature that spent a good amount of time in both worlds, Strickler would have a hard time acting as if nothing had happened. He knew that the chance of a repeat performance was slim, and so he tried to savor those moments as best as he could. 

Stroking himself feverishly, his chest flushed red with pleasure and effort both, he watched Angor closely, observing the way he moved - the way he rolled his hips, the way that his shoulders shuddered with movement, the look of concentration on his face as he stared down at the place where their bodies joined. Strickler was getting too serious as he thought about what the future held, and so instead he focused on the weird twitch in Angor’s left eye, the strange grunting sounds that he was making, the little string of drool that was dripping from one of his tusks. It was weird and gross, and so far, Strickler was thinking that Angor was one of the slimiest trolls that he had every coupled with. _Whatever_. In spite of this, Strickler still found him attractive, and when he grabbed the changeling’s hip and rammed his cock in particularly hard, he couldn’t help but let out a wanton moan. “ _Angor_. Oh fuck, _please_.” The name slipped out in the moment, so quickly that Strickler didn’t notice, but Angor did. Pulling the hand away from his hip, his pace slowed as he wrapped his hand around Strickler’s throat, causing the changeling to try to jerk away in alarm. 

“Don’t say my name, Impure,” Angor rumbled, rolling his hips in such a way that caused the changeling to let out a pathetic cry. Mouth agape, Strickler glared at him, and then grabbed him by the wrist, the Inferna Copula shining brightly. The ring seemed to burn Angor, and with a hiss he attempted to pull his hand away, but Strickler held it there around his neck. 

“If you don’t want me to say your name, you _beast_ , then fuck me harder until I can’t speak,” he growled. A chuckle rumbled in Angor’s chest as he shook his head slightly, still gently thrusting. 

“You truly have a way with words,” he replied, and then did exactly as he had been instructed. Letting out another cry, Strickler squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding as Angor fucked him harder and harder, hard enough that in lucid moments he felt a faint concern that there might be lasting damage to his rectum. Perhaps this whole thing was not the wisest idea, but it was happening and so he figured that it would be better to simply enjoy it in the moment.

It did not take long before Angor’s movements became more erratic, his grunts louder and more desperate, and Strickler felt a moment of panic as he realized what was happening. “W-wait, I’m not-” He was cut off by Angor moving his hand from Strickler’s neck to his mouth, effectively silencing whatever he had been intending to say. Shouting against his hand, Strickler glared furiously at the troll, writhing and attempting to push him off of him. Angor ignored him, smirking as he held him down. He glared up at the troll for another moment before he grabbed his own cock once more, stroking quickly and desperately to try to bring himself to climax in time. His efforts were for naught, however, and Angor came with two deep thrusts, letting out a surprisingly subdued moan as he did. 

His orgasm quivered throughout his body as he stayed buried within Strickler, who was still furiously masturbating in an attempt to finish quickly. As Angor attempted to catch his breath, small sounds of pleasure and relief escaping as he did so, Strickler finally got to the tipping point, and shouted against the troll’s hand as he came, a spurt of white semen splattering onto his belly. Shuddering, he continued to let out small sounds as Angor finally pulled his hand away, allowing him to get larger gulps of air. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Angor without focus. It wasn’t the most earth-shattering, life-changing orgasm he has ever had, but as he gazed up at the troll who was looking at him with condescending but friendly smile on his face, he felt an overwhelming fondness for him. _Shit_. It almost made him feel sad for a moment. Taking in a deep breath, he let out a large sigh, relaxing against the desk. His eyes closed again, and he lazily stroked Angor’s hand on his chest with the tips of his fingers. It was a calm moment, and he felt surprisingly at ease. 

In the relaxed atmosphere of that moment, he failed to notice as Angor leaned down, his large frame blocking out all light from the overhead light. It was in this moment, while Strickler revelled fondly in the afterglow of a fun romp, that Angor slid his tongue out and gave a long, wet, slobbery lick to Strickler’s face. The changeling shouted, using both arms to push against Angor’s face. “What are you _doing_?” he cried out, only able to open one eye as the other was covered in saliva. Angor smirked at him, amused by the distress that he was apparently experiencing. 

“Did you not like that, Stricklander? Is that not what your precious humans do?” The mockery in his tone was evident, and Strickler sneered up at him, giving him a sharp shove. 

“You’re incorrigible. Get off of me.” Angor did as he was instructed, and when his softening cock slipped out of Strickler’s spent hole, the changeling let out a whimper. Taking a deep breath, his self consciousness caught up with him as he suddenly felt far too exposed. “Well… thank you for that,” he said only semi-sarcastically, wiping the drool from his eye as he watched Angor stand up straight and set to work putting his loincloth back into place. Strickler took one last, longing look at the cock he knew he would probably never see again, and let out another sigh. Getting off of the desk, he wobbled horribly, and grabbed the desk to steady himself. 

Seeing his underwear nearby, he made a move to grab it, but stepped in a very cold, _very wet_ spot on the carpet. He looked down at his foot, and gasped in shock at the huge, glowing, purple stain that he was standing in. Whirling around, he suddenly took note of the horrible mess that his office had become. Books on the floor, student papers wrinkled and disorganized, his lamp now broken - and the worst part was the sticky puddles of Angor’s semen _everywhere_. Jaw dropped, Strickler was horrified as he looked around, forgetting his nakedness in lieu of moral outrage at the state of his office. Turning back to Angor, the troll was chuckling, that same horrible smile on his horrible troll lips. Strickler’s brow was furrowed, his expression somewhere between rage and dismay. 

“ _Angor!_ ” 


End file.
